Date: Mon, 27 Apr 2009 10:19:02 +0000
From: Aaron Swanson
Subject: Troubled Teen in Trouble - Part 1
I normally write celeb fiction, but this is hot so I thought I'd post it
and see what people think.
It is, of course, a fantasy, depicting consensual (however contrived)
behaviour between legal adults. This is the first section, I thought I'd
get some feedback before posting the rest. Enjoy!
Troubled Teen in Trouble - Part 1
Ah, you're awake, that's good, we can start your conditioning now. Oh,
don't look so worried - hush hush don't shout. Oh do stop thrashing,
there's a good lad. You see, some would say that the restraints and the gag
are too much, but every boy I bring to this clinic proves that such
measures are absolutely necessary.
Well, I say 'boy' but you're a man now aren't you? 18 last week, you are
indeed lucky that we caught you in time. It's a delightful age to be isn't
it? Old enough to be a legal adult, but young enough to be labelled a
"troubled teen". And I should warn you, your body is at it's peak of
perfection at this age. Yours, in particular, is beautiful. I'll admit, I
didn't think much of you when they first brought you in, but once the
clothes came off I got a pleasant surprise.
MAybe you can help me with that. Why, when you have such an angelic face,
such wide blue eyes, such smooth skin, do you lower your head all the time,
and hunch down so your cap shadows you? And your wonderful dark hair, such
a shame to hide it under a baseball cap. Then again, we removed your hair
while you were sleeping, so best not to worry about that. Oh don't worry,
it grows back. Anyway, as I was saying, your chest is so well defined, and
your midriff is so toned, and yet you hide it all under a baggy striped
shirt, with a collar to hide the graceful curve of your neck. Your legs are
supple and long, but again, you were hiding them under a baggy tracksuit
and some awful trainers. I forget what underwear you had on...
Anyway, as you can imagine - hush hush, shhhh... - as you can imagine, I
insisted that we remove all of your body hair, it simply gets in the way,
especially the coat you had on your legs, like an animal! You really should
stop thrashing around you know. The table you are lying on is made of
steel, as are the cuffs around your wrists and ankles. The table was
selected to match your height so your body is stretched taut. The gag is
also somewhat more sophisticated than a rag, so given these facts, struggle
seems a little pointless, does it not? That's better. Your eyes give away
your panic but at least your body is still. Allow me to introduce myself.
I am Dr Swanson. Of course thats not my real name, but thats the name you
were referred to, so lets keep it. Now there are lots of institutes out
there who cater to troubled teens. I say cater, because thats all they
do. They analyse your problems, diagnose you with conditions and give you
medication and counselling. And this country is proof that such methods do
not work. Now, as a professor of psychology, I have formulated my own
therapy, and you will be horrified to learn that I have a 100% success
rate. Now, don't look like that, you agreed in writing to "submit to a
rigorous course of corrective behavioural therapy", I believe is the
wording in the contract. So, you know why you are here. Hmm, I can see
that's angered you somewhat. Oh please don't start thrashing again, you'll
bruise that firm little bottom of yours!
Now, I feel I should explain what these objects are on the table next to
you. No doubt in the time since you woke up you've been imagining that they
are all objects of torture. Quite the opposite. This bottle of water is
just that, as you will be for several days and the demands of nature are
such. It is quite the cocktail however. Not only does it contain nutrients
(which will stop you from feeling hungry) it also contains your
medication. Don't worry, it's not some harmful addictive drug. It's merely
a course of pheromones and hypnotics, the first does of which you were
given when you fell asleep. Now this instrument here may look like it takes
your blood pressure but- are you even listening? Quiet will you?! Now, as I
was saying, this instrument here is a muscle stimulator. No, no, nothing
kinky, you dirty boy! I'll be placing this on your muscles and joints to
give them some exercise. Otherwise you'd be incredibly stiff after a couple
of days, wouldn't you? Oh my, another inuendo. Look what you have me
saying! This next item will become your best friend before you're done. I
don't think I'll say any more about that just yet. And finally, this
implement - don't look so frightened! - may look like a dildo, but I assure
you it is not! Think of the dildo as a horse and cart... and this little
fellow... as a Ferrari!
Oh dear, I think I've upset you. Calm down, let me explain the therapy
process. I'll chuck a cloth over the rest of those items. There we
go. Now. I'm sure I don't have to explain to you what the typical troubled
teen is like. Physically impressive, but lazy. Quick-witted in some areas,
but hopeless at academia. Good-looking, but constantly snarling or
frowning. Social, hanging about in gangs, but fiercely aggressive to
outsiders. The problem stems (as so many do nowadays) from sex. You, young
man, are gay. Don't argue with me, you are. Now listen. As you are bumping
your torso helplessly up and down on my table, your limp little penis is
thumping about on your scrotum and crotch. Now I am a male, passably
attractive but a little old for your tastes probably. However, if I was to
take hold of that penis right now... sorry, cold hands... and begin to play
with it - nothing much, just a gentle pull to shift your foreskin, maybe
nuzzling the end with my thumb - ah! see? it's begun to grow. Little by
little, it gets longer, and thicker, and starts to stand up. Now I just
increase the length of my stroke, and the pressure of my thumb, and look -
it's standing to attention. I'll let go now. But you see my point. All I
have to do is keep going and you'll eventually climax.
So as I was saying, you are, in fact gay. You are attracted to your
mates. But you despise both of these things, and so you are terribly
aggressive. You mask your sexual attractiveness and make certain that
nobody mistakes you for a sexually alluring creature. What sex you do have
involves lots of alcohol and other substances to numb the experience, and
afterwards, graphic descriptions to your friends as evidence that you are
not, in fact, lusting after them instead. You are homophobic, to separate
yourself even further from your sexual truth. So, these therapists will
delve into your past and blame your early childhood. They will attribute
your anger to a medical condition and medicate it as best they can. But in
reality, you are simply in denial. My job, my young buck, is to bring about
acceptance. Over the next few days, you will come to realise that you are
gay. There are 3 phases to this realisation. Oh stop yelling. Look, your
penis is softening, you're spoiling your mood. Ahem, 3 phases!
The first is the covert realisation. Deep down you suddenly click, and it
all makes sense. But you will reject the conclusion of your deepest
desires, and consciously fight to restore your control over your mind. This
is the longest phase to initiate, but also the quickest to pass. Because,
depending on your strength of will, you swiftly move to phase 2. As your
deep realisation is reinforced so-to-speak, your defenses will slowly
lower, until you visibly accept that you are gay. Trust me when I say, this
is bliss to the subject. Yours isn't the first pair of cheeks that have
slapped against that table, and all the other boys before you thoroughly
enjoyed phase 2. From phase 2, the subject has to be reassured that his new
attitude is the correct, truthful one. He is counselled, medicated and
trained to believe in his own conclusions.
Phase 3 was initially difficult to spot, from my point of view, and believe
me when I say, the trial and error involved in the first boys almost shut
me down! But rest assured, I have had sufficient practise by now to ensure
that by the time you leave here, you will be completely and utterly
rehabilitated.
Now, lets begin shall we? As you haven't stopped writhing and shouting
since I started talking, I doubt most of this information will have gone
in. I have taped the information, so eventually it will sink in. Hold your
head still while I put these ear-pieces in. Look what you're making me do
now, you'll bruise if I have to keep pinning you down like this. There we
go. And now I'll just apply some tape so they don't fall out. Perfect!
Before I press play, a couple of other things. There is a fan blowing a
breeze over you so your nipples should be stimulated. The tape has some
moaning sounds and slurping and other such pleasantries between my reciting
the information. This is because your first step has to make 2 points. One,
that the young male body is attractive. Two, that your body is attractive.
For this reason, I have attached a mirror to the ceiling. Ah, also, you've
probably guessed by now, that the gag has a small phallus mounted on it.
It's very durable so I wouldn't bother trying to bite it. Just suck.
Hopefully you won't get too thirsty, but anyway, I'm rambling now. Don't
look so scared, the sooner you relax, the sooner you will enjoy it, and the
sooner you'll walk out of the rehab centre and tell everyone how helpful
this therapy was to you! I'll dim the lights, see you tomorrow! Oh, one
last thing - I won't be using your name, it's unhelpful to the therapy.
I'll have thought of a better one tomorrow. I'll just press play and...
there we go. Don't look at me like that, I'll be back soon! Watch the
mirror, boy! Urgh, you can't hear me. Hmm, two more initiations to go
before lunch, I think I'll let one of them sweat until the afternoon...